Hard Bargain
by devilishlysas
Summary: Sylar/Claire Post 3x11 Dual - Sylar returns for Claire and the Petrelli's, to save her family and herself can she make a deal with her own devil? Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes or it's characters. Warning: Graphic sexual sits, non-con. Edit:Chapters split
1. Chapter 1

**Hard Bargain **

Author: devilishlysas

Pairing: Sylar/Claire (other characters: Angela, Nathan, Peter, HRG, Haitian)

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Sylar comes for his revenge on the Petrelli's and Claire takes the brunt of his frustrations... can she make a deal with the devil to save her own family?

Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes, I just like to pretend

Warning: Explicit sexual scenes, rape, violence (dark fic)

A/N: I have divied this up into chapters as per Reviewers preferences, I wrote this in one long shot and was too damn lazy to cut it up, but as I've added it to LiveJournal and had to for that thought I may as well make the change here as well. Thanks again to those that offered feedback.

PART I

Claire was sleeping relatively soundly, her dreams weren't particularly pleasant, but then how could they be after all she had seen and done in her young life. A noise woke her, nothing out of the ordinary, just another strange unexpected clatter or gurgle from the New York Petrelli mansion. It had been good of her grandmother to take her in, she knew that; at Nathan's insistence of course. Her father had agreed, in fact he'd barely put up a fight, and that bothered her; granted if Angela was intending on her going to college, and footing the bill, there wasn't a lot he could do. But she had wanted to go home, to her mother, to Lyle even... but her dad wouldn't be there. Not now when he was a company man again, Angela's company man. Huffing with a savage thump to her pillow to make it more pliable she rolled over, trying to ignore the sensation of the silk sheets as opposed to the cotton she was used to.

Claire didn't hear him, but then why would she? The bead bowed for a fraction of a second and a body was pressed behind her. She opened her mouth to scream, but a hand was already around her mouth, an invisible force cutting of the sound from her throat, as another hand slipped around her waist to press against the flat of her stomach. The smell of him, she didn't want to recognise it, but she did; he always smelt cool, like pine and mint. She hated that smell, he should stink, evil shouldn't smell soft and inviting. Lips brushed her ear and she trembled, closing her eyes tightly as his breath fanned out over her face.

"Hello Claire."

She kicked out with her legs, trying to squirm free of his grasp, trying to make enough noise to alert the house. But it was like struggling in quicksand, the more she fought the tighter his grip seemed to get, until he was entwined around her that she couldn't tell where she ended and he began.

"Shhh, that's enough." He hissed, once more into her ear, "You can't fight me." He chuckled lightly then, and dropped a kiss against her temple before dragging her physically from the safety of the bed.

Thoughts swam in her mind, she'd known, she'd told them, she wanted to scream _'I told you so!' _ at the top of her lungs, but it wouldn't help, and wasn't exactly comforting.

"Did you miss me Claire?" he rasped, as his tongue flicked out, tracing the inner shell of her ear and causing her to shudder as her stomach clenched unpleasantly. But he didn't remove his hand, or release the crushing invisible grip on her windpipe to let her respond. She'd known it was too good to be true, known that the shard of glass in the back of his head wouldn't have stopped him, even in a fire. Somehow she'd known he was still out there, still plotting, still ready to torment her.

Right then the door swung open to her room and the sudden light from the hallway stunned her momentarily. A gun shot rang out in the still night air, she flinched on reflex, but there was no impact and Sylar made no obvious sounds of pain. Her eyes adjusted and she could make out the bullet hovering inches from his head, just floating in midair. She looked up into the fierce face of her grandmother in a silk robe, the gun steady in her hand. Claire had honestly never seen someone look quite so angry as her grandmother did in that moment, she held out the feint hope that she really would be saved. Nathan was there in moments, a gun in his own hand, in only his slacks, as he stood beside his mother and stared down the monster that held her locked silently in place.

Sylar let out a bark of laughter. "Look Claire, Granny and Bio-dad are here to save you from the big bad serial killer." He shook her lightly, and finally released her mouth, clearly there was no need to keep her silent. The pressure around her windpipe lessened and she sucked in a huge lungful of air, she hadn't been able to feel the pain that was no doubt burning in them from lack of air, but she had begun to get light headed.

Claire renewed her struggle against him, "Let me go!" she spat, trying to slip out, but his grip was vice like, keeping her pressed firmly against him. He tightened his hold around her waist and lifted her off her feet, until she was against his chest, her head almost in line with his own, the perfect shield. One of her wandering legs connected with his knee and he snapped her legs together with his mind, holding them fast.

"Sylar. How did you escape the fire? I saw Claire kill you." Angela enquired, sliding further into the room, not dropping the guns aim an inch as Nathan followed, his mobile out. Sylar raised his unoccupied hand and sent the guns and mobile phone flying through the room, to hit the wall behind him.

"Didn't take." Claire felt him shrug, and just knew that awful grin was on his face. "I have your precious granddaughter to thank for that." His loose hand smoothed through her hair, fisting it in his hand and forcing her head back against his shoulder.

"Just let her go." Nathan insisted, edging closer, although what he intended to do she had no idea.

"You know you can't kill Claire Sylar. Just let her go. She's young, innocent, just let her live her life. Don't you think you've taken enough from her?" Angela quipped in that smooth silky way of hers. Sylar's grip around her waist tightened to what should have been painful, if she could feel that was.

"Innocent?" You could practically hear the sneer in his voice as he said that. "Hardly." He continued, brushing another kiss against her temple, causing her to flinch away. "Our little Claire has done some pretty awful things. Haven't you babydoll?" He pulled her head back by the grip on her hair far enough so she could see his face. "Don't forget I have a wonderful ability that you yourself hand fed me; isn't that right Granny." His gaze fixed on Angela, and Claire could see the feral grin that sent chills sweeping though her system. "I only have to touch an object to know everything about it, even a person. Claire here, oh she is close, so close to being everything I could hope for, a broken little thing, hardening with every cut I make in her life. I know everything about precious Claire, beautiful, sweet, ripe..." his hands slid higher and she had to force down the bile that rose as his large hand slid across her breasts with deliberate force.

"Stop it!" She bucked against him, her legs useless, limp dead weights below her waist in his power. "Don't touch me you sick bastard!" she added with true feeling, he laughed against her ear. But his eyes were fixed on Nathan.

"Tell me Bio-dad." Sylar continued, his voice low and rumbling in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "Are you really just going to stand there, and watch whilst I defile our Claire here?"

Claire grimaced as Nathan's face hardened but he didn't rush forward, didn't try to tackle Sylar and free her; he simply looked on with cold fury.

"Ah that's right. You aren't the powerful brother." Sylar goaded. "Peter would have fought, could have made it interesting, might have stood a chance at freeing his little niece. But the all powerful Senator Nathan Petrelli... has to stand and watch."

He did charge then, and was slammed back forcefully for his trouble, hitting the solid wall with a thud and a definite crack. "Oops there Senator, looks like you broke your back." Sylar pointed out and Claire screamed an obscenity at him.

"What do you want Gabriel?" Angela snapped, seeming finally to have lost her patience, her anger stronger than her fear.

Sylar yanked her hair and lifted Nathan off the wall slamming him back into it and forcing him to cry out in agony; that made her insides twist. "My name is Sylar." He spoke quietly, but with such menace that for once Angela seemed to take heed.

"Who are my parents?" he asked smoothly and without preamble, fixing Angela with a dark look that held her.

"If I tell you, you'll kill us anyway." Angela reasoned.

Sylar's smirk was awful, and Claire felt something hard press against her lower back, as he forced her even closer to this body. "Of course. But you see there is a choice in the method. You can die, knowing that the last thing you'll see in this sad world is your grandchild raped before your eyes, watching her plead, and beg, as her fragile mind shatters when I take her to pieces. Oh she can't be hurt physically, but that just makes it so much more interesting, there's no limit to the imagination with her." Angela seemed to pale, and Claire was unable to control the way her body began to shake. "Or, you can tell me what I need to know, and I'll make it quick, a small cut, some pain..." he fixed her with a cruel smile, Claire had only a second to cry out before she was slammed forward into the mattress of the bed, her head pinned sideways, his hand on her lower back pinning her, as he slid onto the bed and straddled her.

The evidence of his awful ability to follow through with his threat pressed into her ass behind his tightening jeans. Claire strangled a sob, and tried to buck him off but it only brought him further into contact with her and he groaned. "That's it Claire, eager already to start." He slapped her ass hard and she felt tears slide free with humiliation, as a hand slid beneath the thin tank top she wore to bed to stroke the skin on her back.

"Tell him what he wants to know." Nathan rasped; there was a rattling sound as he took in a shaky breath still pinned to the wall.

Claire couldn't see her grandmother and the silence terrified her as Sylar's hands ran to her ass and inch by careful inch he began to lower her thin cotton slacks.

"You're going to rape her anyway. That's what you came here for; the information was secondary. You want to humiliate her, hurt her the only way she still can be, for daring to stand up to you." Angela sneered, and Claire suppressed a sob. "I've seen it." Angela's voice was cold steel. "How did you think I knew to come to her room just now. I dreamed it not 5minutes ago, I have already seen what you're going to do to her. But she's going to come through it, you won't break her Gabriel."

"Ma, shut up right now. Tell him what he wants to know, I won't let you stand there and bargain with this monster." Nathan croaked, Claire wished she could see his face, he sounded so close to passing out. She hoped he did, if Sylar was going to rape her, then she didn't want her father to have to watch.

"Did you hear that Claire?" Sylar gripped her hair and yanked her head up to face her grandmother, forcing her back to arch sharply. "Granny wants a second viewing." Shock registered on Angela's face, breaking through her facade. "She's already seen it, but instead of sparing you, she's voting to make you endure." His hand that wasn't holding her hair back and forcing her body into an arch, slid across her front, and pushed beneath the elastic waistband of her slacks. She bucked crying out in surprise as his warm hand cupped her between the legs, sliding backwards and forwards.

"You sick fuck." Claire spat feeling her hands snap too behind her bowed back, whilst he slid a finger inside of her. She couldn't help it, she wrenched herself, trying to get away, but his finger slid deeper and she grunted in surprise and shock.

"So tight Claire." He rasped pressing a kiss to her forehead. His eyes locked on Angela's across from them. "Not wet though, not yet at least." He grinned, as he began stroking her, sliding his finger in and out as his thumb began to circle outside. Claire gasped, and screwed her eyes shut, trying to block it all out, the sensation, the terror and panic coiling in her gut, the bile in her chest that threatened with every touch of his finger within her, and the eyes of her family. "Perhaps you were right Angela... innocent after all." Sylar was grinning, she didn't need to open her eyes to know that, as he bumped against something inside of her; and she was forced to hiss desperately as another finger was slid within her. "Although with Claire it's hard to tell isn't it. Forever a virgin after all that will just heal too." He laughed and Claire feared she really would be sick.

"For god sakes tell him!" Nathan roared breaking the silence, Claire opened her eyes in time to see Angela jump; she looked frozen to the spot.

"Claire." Sylar spoke to her, for the first time he actually seemed to be addressing her as opposed to talking at her. "Ask your grandmother to make me stop." As he spoke his hands pushed and the slacks that had protected her modesty slid away. Claire shook her head violently, she wouldn't give Sylar the satisfaction. She could feel his grin against the skin on her neck as he pressed a kiss there.

"I was hoping you'd say that." He rasped and she felt the length of him, hard and hot, seeming to burn against her back, released from his jeans. He rocked his hips forward, and pressed against her. Claire bucked, he wasn't aiming where she was dreading, but at least expecting, he was higher. He pressed and she let out a choked sob as she realised his intent. Claire couldn't help it her eyes locked helplessly on Angela's as he pressed the head of his cock against her ass.

"You won't enjoy this Claire." Sylar hissed, loud enough for the small audience to hear. "But I will, and when I'm done using you, we're going to go again... and again. I'm going to leave you mangled, bloody, and covered from head to toe in me. You'll never forget this Claire, you'll never be able to forget the smell of me, the taste, never be able to scrub yourself clean." Tears slid down her face, she couldn't help it, she was strong, but he was making her powerless all over again, he was the only thing she had ever truly feared. He didn't wait for her grandmother to reconsider, didn't wait for her to prepare, he pulled back and slammed straight into her ass, pushing until he reached the hilt.

Claire cried out more from surprise than anything, as her hips were grasped and shoved into position so he could abuse her fully. She thanked for once the small mercy of her painless body, as she felt something wet and warm trickle down her legs. Suppressing further sobs she clenched her eyes closed as he thrust into her with savage intensity, not releasing her hair from his taut grip. He didn't need her help as he practically picked her up of the bed, slamming her hips back against his, not bothering to suppress his grunts of satisfaction.

Claire couldn't look up, couldn't see their faces as he rutted into her relentlessly, without signs of tiring or softening. Then his hand slipped between her legs and pinched her hard and she bucked sharply, not expecting the sudden spark of pleasure. Her eyes snapped open and found her grandmother's she couldn't read the expression in her eyes or on her face, she was completely closed off. Nathan had slumped to the floor, unmoving, but his eyes met hers when she looked his way, the pain and anger in his gaze almost made up for the lack of it in Angela's. Sylar's fingers pushed within her and it was her worst nightmare, as her painless body took his abuse without protest, his searching fingers sending waves of something else through her. His abuse she could take, could handle, but the idea that he could force her body to enjoy it was abhorrent.

"Stop please." The words tumbled from her lips and she couldn't claw them back, or prevent the breathless tone to them. He slammed her hips back harder, going so deep in her that she couldn't imagine not feeling him. She felt full, stretched beyond limits, as his fingers pressed further within her, rubbing the sensitive wall separating them from his dick. Wetness dripped down her legs for a very different reason and she sobbed openly, this couldn't be happening, but as he pressed his thumb insistently against the mound between her legs she let out a throaty moan between sobs that she could never take back.

"Please, Sylar please, stop, don't..." she felt hysteria bubbling over as the knot in her abdomen intensified and her whole body began to tremble with the effort of holding back, she even had to fight her hips from willingly slamming back against his to increase the pressure. "Don't make me do this... please." She sobbed, clutching her hands behind her back tightly feeling the light dusting of hairs from his flat stomach, as he worked her; she dug her nails in and took savage pleasure in feeling his skin pop beneath them. His breath was heavy, coming in sharp grunts, interspersed with the sickening sounds of wet slapping.

"That's it babydoll," he rasped, leaning over her and increasing the intensity of the angle he took her from, as his fingers curled up inside of her, until the pressure seemed to be coursing through her like a wave. "Come for us Claire." There was nothing she could do, as his fingers worked her hard, and the pressure of him within her ass refused to lessen. Her first orgasm shouldn't have been at the hands of a serial killer...of her rapist, but it was. It spilled from her lips and she clamped down on them, not caring if she drew blood, as he whole body rocked with spasms, and clenched around his rock hard cock, causing him to buck sharply and shoot his bastard semen inside of her violently. He held her firmly to him whilst she trembled and sobbed, not able to stem the flow of shameful tears behind her heaving breaths.

Sylar released her hair and shoved her forcefully down into the mattress. Slipping his still half hard cock from her, and flipping her over wordlessly so that she was forced to look up at his naked chest, with his dick hanging out from between his zipper. She blanched seeing the state of him, his dick was bigger than she'd imagined and streaked in fluids, blood and semen. "Look at the mess you made Claire." He chastised her lightly, half an eye on Angela who stood immovable, in the same position, the loathing in her eyes quite clear now.

Sylar gripped her head and she blanched as he slid up her body, until he could kneel over her chest, his ability keeping her extremities pinned without real effort. His already hardening filthy cock brushed her lips and she wrenched her head away, sealing her lips tightly. But there was no fighting Sylar, her head whipped round beyond her control, and her mouth flew open. He moved forward his dick hovering at the entrance to her mouth as she strained her jaw against him, trying to snap it shut. She watched as he looked over her, staring at her grandmother, that awful smirk on his lips.

"We don't have to degrade Claire further." He was speaking softly, and his fingers brushed lightly through her golden hair as he inched further into her mouth and she was forced to draw her tongue back to avoid touching him. "Tell me what I want to know and it ends." Angela maintained her stony silence and Sylar laughed clearly delighted. He slammed into her mouth so deep that he hit the back of her throat and she gagged, completely unable to breathe or close her throat against him. Her lips sealed over his dick against her control and her teeth drew back. He took hold of her head by her hair and began to rape her again, the taste mingling on her mouth and further increasing the gag reflex as he slammed down her throat.

She had never done this, not willingly, never imagined it would be so awful, perhaps with someone you cared for, someone that wasn't trying to force his way down your throat it could have been. She'd never know, she wasn't sure she'd ever want to touch another man after this. Her tongue had nowhere to go, and quite by accident was beneath his dick, as he forced himself within her, increasing the friction and his pleasure. "So good Claire." He groaned above her, and she closed her eyes firmly, not wanting to see how much pleasure he was getting from this. "Cheerleaders really do suck cock like pros." It was the first vulgarity he had used and it shocked her so much that the bile that had been threatening since he had begun rose, she bucked, damn near choking as she threw up in her mouth and was instantly forced to choke it back down. Sylar grunted sharply above her as the contrasting clenching of her throat hit him just the right way, and he exploded, there was no option but to swallow it. He continued to thrust lightly until he was spent and he was sure she'd taken every last drop of him, before he withdrew. Her reaction was immediate, she turned her head to the side and threw up, convulsing with the shock of it.


	2. Chapter 2

Hard Bargain: Part II  
Warning: Explicit Sexual content, rape, violence (NC-17)

Sylar was still above her, she couldn't look at him, so when he grabbed her and rolled her away from the spot she was surprised. With a flick of his wrist the bedcovers she had soiled tore out from under them and sailed across to the other side of the room, falling in a stinking heap.

"Claire, Claire, Claire." He tutted at her, stroking her back, as she struggled not to retch further. "That was a waste of my perfectly good semen." He spun her over to pin her to the bedspread his hand around her throat, as he again kept an eye on both her and Angela. "Shame, Nathan missed that as well, he slipped unconscious." Sylar added, "We'll have to demonstrate it for him again later lover." He told her brightly with a wicked grin.

Claire had been wallowing in hopelessness before he spoke, but his words reignited a fire in her and she lunged at him, clawing at his face with her nails, so that three long gashes appeared, and instantly healed.

"I'll kill you!" Claire screamed at him, twisting in his grip, "You son of a bitch I'll kill you for this!"

"You already tried that Claire-bear." He cooed, and held her firmly as he licked the side of her neck to her jaw. "God you taste so good babydoll." That stupid nickname, it made her skin crawl as his voice infused the word with false affection. He picked her up and placed her firmly in front of him on her knees, forcing her head once more to meet her grandmothers. He didn't need to tell her what he wanted, and to her shame she couldn't stop the words from spilling out from her lips, as fresh tears slid free.

"Angela..." her voice caught at the pain that twisted her grandmother's face. "Please; tell him." Claire hung her head as his fingers began questing beneath her again. "I can't..." she trailed off not able to even vocalise it.

Angela's face darkened and an honest to goodness tear slipped down her cheek. "I'm sorry Claire." Claire looked at her grandmother in quiet disbelief. "Do you really think he's going to stop with you if I tell him?" she asked pointedly, disgust lacing every word. Claire felt his once again hard dick against her back and felt the fight drain out of her. Angela was right, he wanted to do this to her, if he got to hurt Angela and Nathan in the process and possibly glean some information at the same time, all the better. "Why let him get everything he wants." Angela concluded succinctly, but her voice broke on the last word and Claire had to turn away from her grandmother's sobs.

Sylar threw her violently into the headboard, which was wooden and splintered with the force of the impact, she was dazed momentarily whilst her bones slid back into place. But when she opened her eyes she had time to see Sylar pinning Angela to the wall, his finger poised to pry the top of her skull off. Claire took the opportunity this presented and rolled off the bed, and dived towards the corner of the room where Sylar had hurled the guns. He didn't even look at her as he wrenched the gun from her hand with a flick of his wrist. A pressure went around her throat and she was lifted off the floor, Sylar glanced at her, his one hand out towards her, his other pinning Angela. He beckoned and she began to glide forwards through the air until she reached his hand and it settled firmly around her throat. He dragged her between the two of them, putting her face to face with Angela.

"Say goodbye to your grandmother Claire." Sylar told her calmly, Claire stared grimly at the older woman.

"Close your eyes Claire." Angela told her, she did as requested.

"No." Sylar snapped and her eyes flew open in horror, it was a cruelty most killers or rapists couldn't demand of their victims, but there was no closing them against his power, she watched as the gash began to form across her grandmother's forehead. Eye to eye Angela tried to be strong for her, but the screams started as her blood splashed out over Claire's face. Finally the screams stopped and Angela's eyes were still, wide and agonised in death. Claire was shaking all over, her naked body streaked in her grandmother's blood. Sylar wasn't done yet, he hurled her down on the floor, letting Angela fall with a dull thud. Claire tried to crawl away, tried to put distance between the sight of her grandmother's exposed brain and her, but Sylar had gripped her firmly around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. His hands took hers and forced them lower.

"No." Claire gasped as he pulled her hands down towards her grandmother's brain. "No!" she screamed fighting him hopelessly, as her hands made contact with the squishy matter. Her body wretched, bucking, but she wasn't sick, there was nothing left to throw up. She simply sat there on his lap crying; a numbness spread through her as he forced her hands to glide over the exposed brain of her grandmother, slicking them with blood.

"Isn't it fascinating Claire." Sylar cooed behind her, raising his own hand to run a finger down the centre of her brain, whilst using his ability to hold her still. "Nothing like your brain of course." He mused. "Yours was unique, special." He rasped and kissed her cheek almost tenderly. "All the answers." He continued, the words so similar to the ones he'd used as he hovered over her that awful day in Costa Verda, that she stilled, even her trembling stopped; she was beyond that now, the shock and pain so deep she couldn't feel it.

"I still don't have all the answers to the questions I want," he added, and she vaguely heard those questions asked afresh in her memory. _'How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?', 'Why is there evil?' 'How do we make love stay?' "_I guess I figured out how to make love stay." He added breaking her from the memory as he curled a hand around her waist possessively. "You force it to." Claire shuddered at the notion and turned her head away the moment the pressure released. Sylar guided her hands, looking for that elusive part of Angela's mind that held her ability. It didn't take long, "There." He grinned, and pressed his finger to the area sliding within, he trembled slightly, before releasing a breath as he finally released her hands. "Done." He rasped, sounding pleased with himself. Then his bloodied hands slid along her torso, and up to her hair, coating her afresh with blood. She was too drained, too stunned to do more than sit there, staring blankly at the top of Angela's skull, as his hands explored her. She protested mildly as he picked her up into his arms and heaved her back onto the bed. Before turning back to Nathan, and giving her father a cursory glance, he was still out cold... he was the lucky one. "We'll just have to amuse ourselves until he wakes up."

His mouth took hers, and she was too surprised to think about closing it, of course the moment she tried there was no help. Her jaw was once again beyond her control, as his tongue explored her mouth. He sucked on each lip, teasing and biting as his hands pulled her nipples into taut peaks, she simply lay there; what else could she do? She felt his dick, hard again against her thigh, she could only assume that he had picked up some kind of stamina ability or possibly pills somewhere because she was quite sure it wasn't natural to be able to keep it up this long, granted she wasn't experienced in this area, but girls talked. His one hand cradled her face, keeping their gazes locked whilst his other hand slid to her ass and lifted her leg. The feeling of him pressing between her legs caused a mild reaction to flare, and she slapped at him, before he pinned her firmly. Of course her protests only encouraged him and he pushed inside of her, slowly this time, so she could feel every inch of him. She felt the flimsy resistance between her legs give way at his insistence, but there was no twinge of pain, nothing but the feeling of fullness as he slid deeper, she was losing her virginity to a rapist, to a monster... to Sylar, a choked sob was all she could manage.

"It would be easier if it hurt wouldn't it babydoll." He whispered, kissing her mouth lightly, as he licked the tears she hadn't even realised had begun to fall. "You'll never understand how special you are to me Claire." He continued, sliding back and forward slowly with absolute control within her, so that when the heat and wetness began to build he could watch the shame blossom in her expression. "Whilst it's just the two of us, I'll be gentle, just like this." he rasped against the skin on her neck, "But when Nathan's awake, I'm going to make you scream yourself hoarse, make your pretty little cunt squirt itself dry." His hand slid between them and he began to torment her again, her breath hitched as his steady thrusts hit a spot inside of her that made her toes curl. His hand clasped her butt tighter, until he could slam into her fully from a deeper angle that turned the burning heat into a raging fire. Claire clutched at the sheets with absolute conviction that she wasn't going to scream, wasn't going to let him take this from her. But those fingers kept moving and his thrusts kept meeting that spot, she was quivering when he sped up, and it was all over, if her first orgasm had been something it was nothing compared to the one he forced upon her now. Her head dropped back, and her chest heaved, as she gasped for non-existent air, her back arched up to him so firmly that their chests touched. But he wasn't done and she rode out her orgasm as he thrust into her with abandon, all sense of style gone, had she been able to feel it she was certain he would have been hurting her. As it was she could simply lie there in quiet shame and disgust as he slammed his hips into hers over and over, his eyes practically rolling back in his head as he convulsed.

She felt the impact with a jolt, Sylar's slumped across her like a dead weight, his dick still spurting within her even as blood trickled across her chest from the wound in the back of his head. Claire looked over and up with stunned eyes, Nathan was flying, or rather floating above the bed, a knife still gripped firmly in his hand, the other half embedded in the back of Sylar's skull. He hovered there for a moment, simply staring at what he had done before he seemed to lose the concentration and he slumped falling heavily to the floor with a thud, and lying there motionless. Claire lay there, not able to think clearly for a moment.

"Claire?" Nathan's voice was wavering, but he was alive.

"I'm trapped." She responded lamely after a few moments of tense silence. "He's..." she didn't need to explain he'd seen.

"Is he dead?" Nathan asked his voice like steel.

"No." Claire replied trying to ignore the way her hands shook as she attempted to free herself from his full weight. "Just shut down."

"I can't help you Claire. My back is broken; I can't feel anything below the waist." Nathan informed her tersely.

Claire nodded, taking that in for herself as she lay beneath Sylar, feeling his dick softening within her, his semen mixing with her own shame as it trickled down her thigh. With an enormous effort she shoved at his shoulders, trying to lever herself out from under him. She opened her legs and gripped the end of him, yanking him free of her. Using her legs which were wide beneath him she was able to get enough momentum to roll him onto his side and off her. That done she simply lay there panting for a few minutes with the effort, before she hesitantly sat up and stared down at Sylar, making sure the knife was still in place. He'd stay that way for a while until it was removed or pushed itself out.

"Ma's dead." Nathan spoke again, but she was unable to tell what he was feeling from the rough tone of his voice, she didn't know him well enough to make the call.

"Yes." Claire crouched down at him.

"You're bleeding." He managed looking ill, as he stared at her now from his position on the floor.

"It's not mine." Claire continued her curt answers, not sure she could manage to say much else without breaking down.

"His?" Nathan asked seemingly equally sickened by the idea.

"Angela's." Claire added. "He made be watch. Made me..." she couldn't say it just stared down looking at her hands. "It was her brain!" she cried, it was half a wail, as her eyes widened.

"Claire look at me!" Nathan snapped, "Claire!" he yelled more forcefully until she settled wide agonised eyes on him. "You're going into shock. I need you to stay with me a little longer before you do that." He kept her pinned with her gaze. "You've been so strong; I need you to be just that little bit longer." Claire nodded.

"You need to call an ambulance." Nathan instructed her, "And Peter. Call Peter Claire. He'll sort everything out." Claire nodded, "Where's your mobile Claire, is it on the dresser?" Claire nodded again, and with momentous effort dragged herself in that direction. The mobile dropped into her lap after some searching and she stared at it, with shaking hands she managed to push the speed dial. It rang 5 times without answer and panic began to set in, she needed Peter to sort this, because she couldn't face anything.

"Hello?"

Relief filled her, but her voice failed, she opened her mouth and closed it again, not sure what to say. Nathan saved her from it, "Peter," he yelled from his position on the other side of the room, trusting Peter would hear him, "Sylar's attacked us, I'm hurt bad, and I can't help Claire. We need you."

"Nathan... Claire?" Peter's voice wavered on the end of the line and Claire started crying. "I'm coming." He promised and the line went dead.

Within minutes the downstairs door slammed open and heavy footfalls pounded up the stairs. Claire merely stared wordlessly as Peter skidded to a halt in the doorway, and took in the scene, he had his paramedic kit with him she noted absently.

"Oh my god." Peter's first instinct was to tend to the most wounded, he dropped next to Angela and turned away quickly, squeezing his eyes shut tightly before he slid next to Nathan.

"No see to Claire." Nathan snapped, pushing him away with his arms. Peter's eyes snapped up and over to her. He took in her naked state, the blood, the way it streaked her and Sylar's naked body on the bed and his eyes hardened.

"Who killed him?"

"I did." Nathan coughed, that rattling sound more pronounced now. "Flew up there and jammed the knife in the back of his head."

"He's not dead." Claire corrected. "Not yet." Peter met her eyes momentarily and she had to look away not able to meet them yet.

"Okay we'll deal with that in a moment." He was in work mode, and Claire watched fascinated she had never seen Peter in action as a paramedic, or a nurse. Claire watched as he examined Nathan's back and his face was grim. She stared down at her own hands and cursed the fact that despite everything he'd done to her there wasn't a mark on her. Her eyes snapped up.

"Oh my god!"

"Claire!" Nathan gasped trying to look at her, "are you alright?"

"My blood." Claire scrambled across the room and grabbed for Peter's pack looking for a needle and syringe. "My blood can help them... both of them!"

"Claire, mom's dead." Peter reminded her very quietly.

"It doesn't matter, it wasn't long, she's not been gone long. I've died, my Dad's been shot in the head and they brought him back with my blood. Please!" She held out her arm to Peter, and he took the needle and syringe swiftly and stuck it in her vein without another word. "How much do we need?" she asked, watching as her blood filled the syringe.

"This should be fine." Peter replied, pulling it out of her arm. "Adam cured Nathan's burns with barely half of this." Claire gripped Nathan's hand as Peter stuck the needle in his arm, she prayed, prayed like she hadn't even as Sylar had abused her. It didn't take long, mere moments, and Nathan's foot twitched, another few moments and he was sitting up, staggering to his feet.

"Claire I..." he trailed off gazing at her the turmoil of emotions in his face forced her to look away. Nathan turned on his heel and stalked to her bathroom and wrenched her dressing gown down. He hurried back and draped it over her as Peter was inserting a fresh needle into her arm, and withdrawing more blood.

Claire pulled the gown closed as Peter pulled away and hurried over to his mother.

"You need to put her skull cap back on." Claire instructed, Peter shuddered slightly as he picked it up and slotted it back into place, before picking up an arm and sticking the needle in. Claire could feel Nathan hovering and got the impression that he wanted to hug her, or hold her, something. She glanced up at him, and met his dark eyes, shaking her head slightly as she tucked her robe tighter around her, concealing the state of her body from them. For now she was holding it all in, but if he tried to touch her she feared she might just explode, or dissolve... neither was helpful right now.

"What's wrong, why isn't it working?" Nathan asked, stepping away from her to take a closer look at his mother.

Peter shook his head, holding Angela's in his hands as he stared down, Claire could see him almost willing the skull to heal. "It must have been too much damage, or too long." Peter bowed his head.

"Wait." Nathan stepped closer. "Pete, look." He touched his brother's shoulder and the three of them watched in wrapped fascination as the skull resealed itself, slowly, but it was healing. A few seconds later and Angela's eyes flew open as she drew in her first lung full of air, before coughing it back out... fresh air on dead lungs was always a stinger Claire recalled.

"Mom." Peter held her firm as Angela began to panic.

"Sylar!" she snapped trying to struggle up.

"He's dead Ma. You're ok." Nathan grasped her hand and pulled her into his embrace tightly.

"Claire!" Angela spun around and took in the sight of Sylar naked with a dagger sticking out of the back of his head on the bed, before her eyes drifted down to Claire. Claire tried not to look self conscious as she clutched her robe around her, keeping her knees drawn up to her chest, her head against the bed. Angela darted forwards her arms open, Claire couldn't help it she flinched, it seemed to have thrown a bucket of water over them all, Angela stopped dead.

"Just don't touch me for a while." Claire muttered, pulling herself up to her feet and turning to stare at Sylar's prone form.

"Your blood I take it?" Angela asked indicating the needles and syringes on the floor, as Nathan slid an arm around her waist; she seemed almost too shaky to stand.

"Yes." Claire replied without taking her eyes off Sylar, she moved forward and pulled his head up, looking at his face, disgust rippled through her, as Angela spoke behind her.

"Peter." Claire heard her embrace him, "We need to dispose of the body, we'll have to decapitate him, burn the body, make sure he can't regenerate."

"No." Claire replied quietly. They were silent behind her.

"He has to suffer first." She barely recognised her own voice, hatred blistered it.

"Claire." Peter stepped closer and hesitated, not sure what to do when he couldn't take her in his arms. "You don't want that. That's not who you are." He told her gently.

Claire turned around to glare at him. "You weren't here. You don't know what he did to me!" she felt her eyes blaze but no tears slid down and she was proud of that.

"But I was. Claire," Nathan sighed. "I would do just about anything to that piece of shit, anything you wanted until he resembled nothing more than hamburger. But he's dead, incapacitated at least. If we wake him, we run the risk of him getting free." Claire met his eyes, "If he came back for you..."

Claire shuddered and turned away back to the man that would always haunt her nightmares; she grabbed his hair again and pulled his head back moving aside so they could see. Angela gasped, Peter looked mildly sick, and Nathan was a stone. "This bastard died smiling, as he fucked me." Claire snapped, not caring when they flinched at her words.

Nathan opened his mouth to speak and Angela silenced him with a touch. "I'll call the Haitian."

"Don't tell my father what he did." Claire replied, dropping Sylar's head back onto the bed carelessly, not daring to face them again.

"I have to. He'll want to be here." Angela slipped away then, to make her phone call.


	3. Chapter 3

Hard Bargain: Part III  
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, I just like to pretend  
Summary: warning explicit content

"I need a shower." Claire spoke after several minutes of quiet.

Peter nodded, and disappeared into the bathroom, she turned around and watched him cover the mirrors with a towel, she couldn't raise a smile, but she knew he wouldn't mind. It was a bit disconcerting to know that he understood her that well, but right now, if it meant she could use minimal communication to get what she needed she'd deal with it.

"We'll deal with the body." Nathan offered.

"And burn the sheets." Peter replied looking at her gently, as he emerged from the bathroom. Claire nodded and slipped around him into the bathroom and closed the door.

It took her a while to work up the courage to pull off the robe and step into the shower, she glanced back at the covered mirror and closed her eyes, she couldn't have taken seeing the state he'd made of her. As it was she refused to look down, keeping her eyes focused on the back wall of the shower as she turned the power on. The warm water spilt over her and she simply stood there. When she did finally glance down blood was trailing into the drain and she felt her knees give up on her. She hadn't realised until Angela opened the door and slid inside, that she was crying, full blown sobs, they couldn't possibly not have noticed next door. Angela was still in her blood spattered night clothes, but she didn't seem to care as she opened the shower door and stepped inside. Claire didn't have the strength to protest as she ducked down and wrapped her arms tightly around her. Nor did she offer pointless platitudes, telling her it would be ok, she just held her, stroking her hair under the steady stream of water. After an unidentifiable amount of time, her sobs had halted, and she was merely staring blankly, so Angela moved, easing them both up to their feet. Claire let her.

"It's the shock Claire." Angela told her gently. "It'll pass and you'll be able to think clearly again, then you can decide what you need." Claire nodded without really feeling anything as Angela, rubbed shampoo into her hair, before tilting her head back to wash it out, she repeated the motion with conditioner, and ran her fingers through the hair, before again tilting her head back to wash it out. Angela handed Claire a sponge, lathered with fresh smelling soap. "Use it dear." She told her gently, Claire complied, raising the sponge and using the rough side to scrape at her skin. After a few moments Angela stilled her hands, and pulled her close again, blood dripped between them, Claire stared blankly at the bloody sponge, and then at her freshly healing skin.... she hadn't even realised she'd rubbed so hard.

"I feel like I want to take my skin off." Claire choked out, dropping the sponge in disgust. Angela brushed the hair off her face.

"You can dear." Claire's eyes shot to Angela's and a moment passed before Angela turned the thermostat up on the shower, and stepped out, closing the door behind her. Claire stared at the temperature gauge, the water would be practically scalding shortly. Angela waited, patiently until she emerged, and wrapped her slightly pink skin in a towel, but even that hue was gone when she checked again a few seconds later.

"Thank you." Claire managed, not entirely sure how she felt about Angela at the moment. She hadn't forgotten pleading with her grandmother on Sylar's behalf to tell him what he needed, and her blank refusal. Granted she understood why, after all she didn't want Sylar to win either, at least not everything. Denying him that one answer had been the only thing any of them really could do. It didn't change the hurt she'd felt looking into her eyes to see that she wouldn't.

"Your father and the Haitian will be here shortly, we've been in here some time." Angela reminded her as she gently pulled her hair out of the towel. Claire nodded, Angela was being gentle but not babying her too much for which she was strangely grateful. They stepped out of the bathroom and Angela diverted her away from the bedroom, and took her instead to hers, she sat her down on the ottoman and disappeared. Remerging a few minutes later with some clothes that she'd clearly taken from Claire's drawers. Claire took them wordlessly, grateful again that her grandmother seemed to know exactly what she needed right now, and what she did not. She'd brought her a pair of comfy jeans, a dark blue knit jumper with sleeves and a v neck, and flip flops; not the type of clothes Angela usually laid out for her.

By the time Angela had gotten her dressed and placed a cup of coffee in her hands she felt almost human again. Almost. They'd heard the door open to admit the others a little while ago, but she hadn't rushed down, and they hadn't come up. With a heavy heart, and slow feet she made her way downstairs in Angela's wake. They all turned to face her when she entered the kitchen and she looked down, not able to meet their gazes, as she slid into a chair.

"I haven't reconsidered." Her voice was quiet but no one seemed to have any trouble hearing her. She felt her father's approach, he knelt down, his huge frame almost as tall as her seated one. He hovered, not touching... so he knew.

"Claire I..."

"Don't." Claire snapped. "It wasn't your fault; it wasn't anyone's except his. I don't want to talk about it. I just want to wipe that fucking smile of his face." They apparently had nothing to say to that.

"He's in the garage." Nathan informed her thickly.

Claire stood up, and led the way, she felt sick, but a growing wave of anger was what kept her feet moving. Sylar had raped her, abused her, defiled her, in front of her family and he'd done it all with a smile on his face. He'd killed Angela, broken Nathan in half. He had to pay for that. She hesitated only briefly at the garage door, before swinging it open and stalking inside, the others behind her. Peter quietly shut the door behind him as he entered last, and stood with his back against it.

Claire turned her gaze on the Haitian for the first time, to find him looking at her intently. "Can you hold him?"

The Haitian looked at Sylar then back at her father, before returning his gaze to her. "I hope so." That wasn't quite as comforting as she'd hoped for. "He is very powerful; it is possible I will not be able to hold him for long. You must be swift; we cannot allow him to escape." Claire nodded, painfully aware of that fact.

"Dad." She spoke,

"Yes." Both her father and Nathan chimed in and then stared evenly at one another.

"Whichever," she sighed too tired to deal with that particular problem, "Someone pull it out of his head... I don't want to bring him back." Her father stepped forward, she imagined he'd get a kick out of Sylar seeing his face looming over him after what he'd done to her... she was happy to let him. The knife slid out into his hand and her father took a step back, holding it lightly.

Sylar's eyes snapped open and he drew in a sharp breath, coughing, before he levelled his gaze on them one by one, until they came to rest on her. He grinned, the bastard actually grinned. "Bring me back for second's babydoll?"

The words rocked her and she took a reflexive step back, quite sure her face was reflecting just how badly that had stung. Her father responded instantly his hand slammed out so fast she'd barely seen it but, Sylar rocked back on his chair, and there was a nasty gash all across the right side of his face and nose when he turned a dark stare back on her.

"Oh I'm sorry my mistake. This would make it fourths..." Claire flinched and felt Angela grip her arms tightly. Maybe they were right, perhaps this wasn't such a good idea; the sound of her father's fist smacking into him was welcome. Nathan stepped forward and joined in, and she stood back just watching as they both took turns knocking the snot out of him. They pulled back when he looked sufficiently bloody and he grinned, spitting a couple of teeth out, but still he had eyes only for her, as new teeth filled in the gaps of the ones he'd lost.

"Killing me won't make you forget. I hear girls always remember their first. I had you first every which way." He leered at her. He turned to her father and met his stare unflinching despite the look on his face. "She was so good daddy, so tight... you have no idea."

"You son of a bitch!" her father swore and raised the knife, losing his calm.

"NO!" Claire yelled, and darted forward, taking the knife from him. "If anyone's going to kill this piece of filth it's me."

"She moaned like a whore for me Noah." Sylar goaded as he bared his teeth in a twisted grin at her father. Angela placed a restraining hand on his shoulder and he took a half step back. Sylar switched his attention to Nathan.

"Well I see Bio-dad's up and about... faking it? I don't blame you. I wouldn't risk my life for the offspring of a piece of trailer trash filth either. You should be grateful; I took care of that gold digging Bio-whore for you." Nathan's nostrils flared as he reigned in his temper, and he rocked forward slightly onto the balls of his feet, before he regained himself.

But Claire hadn't mastered her temper she backhanded him soundly across his face and felt an odd sensation of justice when she heard his nose break. He laughed and spat out the blood.

"They say you only hurt the ones you love Claire." He met her eyes then, boring into her soul with that look, and she wanted to throw up all over again. "It doesn't matter what they do to me... I'm going to die happy Claire." Claire flinched at the look on his face, it was adoring and it had no place there.

Without thinking Claire snapped forward jamming the knife under his chin and digging in enough to draw blood. "Don't you dare look at me like that!" She hissed at him, and he winced slightly as the blade dug deeper.

"I love you." he rasped and she stumbled back, slicing as she went, pleased to see the trickle of blood. Unfortunately it lead her gaze down, and thankfully whilst they'd put his jeans back on him, she was still able to see just what her proximity apparently did to him. She must have whitened because Angela grabbed the knife out of her hand and stalked forward like a woman possessed. Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it again and quickly did an about face, facing the wall instead. Sylar's scream tore through the air as he bucked in the seat, which her father so helpfully held down for him. Claire watched, unable to look away, quite sure as to what her grandmother had just done, especially given Sylar's reaction and absolutely agonised scream.

"You bitch!" He screamed again, "Fucking bitch. I'll kill you!"

Anglea stood up, her hands somewhat bloodied, but she was still concealing him from her. "I believe you tried that already Gabriel. Didn't take as they say." She threw his words back at him then stepped back and even Claire had to close her eyes, not wanting to look more closely at Sylar's crotch which was covered with blood, but there was definitely no bulge now.

"I wanted to help you Gabriel, thought you could be of some good in this world. I should have let Bennett put a bullet in your head." Angela sighed, looking faintly disgusted but determined.

Sylar levelled his clearly pained gaze on her, sweat beaded his brow and he looked quite ready to feint. "It'll grow back, and when it does, I'll show you how much I love you Claire." Claire had nothing to say, she hadn't expected this, Sylar had always been crazy, always obsessed with her, but love? Surely he was just saying that to get to her now; but then she hadn't expected him to behave this way, he'd always been so calm and controlled. He seemed to have just snapped... "In fact." Sylar grinned and sent a bolt of lightning straight into the Haitian that knocked him cold.

"Looks like he was out of juice." Claire stumbled backwards feeling Peter's arms take hold of her and attempt to get her through the door and out the way. But the door slammed shut back in their faces and Peter went flying back into the concrete wall where he stood pinned. By that time her father's gun had gone off and he was lying on the floor clutching his side, blood seeping out beneath his hands. Nathan had fared no better than Peter and was pinned to the opposite wall. Sylar's gaze rounded on Peter... "Pity you don't have your powers any more, it might have made this interesting. As it is, flight isn't really something that troubles me." He slammed Peter back against the wall and her Uncle cried out as blood shot out of his mouth, before he was dropped heavily. Sylar held Nathan pinned without so much as looking at him, before he rounded on her and Angela. For her part Angela shoved herself in front and met his feral gaze full on.

"I'm guessing this was Claire-bears idea. To make me suffer was that it?" he laughed, "And I'm betting you all tried to tell her how dangerous it was, how much of a risk to wake me. He kicked the Haitian hard in the head as he stalked forwards. Peter rose to his feet and flew at him from the other side of the room, Sylar turned his head and bellowed. It was a power Claire had never seen before, but Peter was thrown off his feet by the force of the sound wave and fell clearly unconscious to the floor.

Sylar shifted and looked down, a small smile playing over his features as he patted himself. "All better... and all ready for Claire." Claire couldn't help it she fell back against the wall, absolute terror being the only emotion that would register in her panic addled brain. Angela charged forwards with the knife, she dropped it with a shriek, as lightening struck her full in the chest. She was down and out in moments. Sylar didn't even look as he unloaded the same lightening into Nathan, before dropping him, he too didn't open his eyes. They were breathing, she could at least tell that from the way their chests rose, but that was all the good news she had.

Her father was shuffling towards the gun, Sylar held out a hand and it flew straight to him, where he proceeded to dismantle it thoroughly.

"Alone at last." Sylar told her brightly, and closed the distance between them so she was pinned against the concrete wall by his body. She was shaking, violently and she hated it, hated that he had power over her like this. "Well almost... but I'm sure daddy won't mind."

"Sylar don't you touch her!" Her father gasped, clearly in a lot of pain. Sylar turned around and brought her with him, deliberately running his hands across her chest and holding them there.

"Too late Bennett!" Sylar snapped, "If you'll excuse us, Claire and I have some business." She fought him then, with every ounce of strength she had she fought him. She kicked and clawed and squirmed. She made it to the other side of the garage before he was upon her, and she shrieked sobbing as he dragged her back to him. The slam of the door to the garage took the last of her spirits, as he locked it firmly, then moved the incredibly heavy fridge with his mind to block the door, tipping it slightly to make it harder, before slamming the kitchen table into it to keep it all upright.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hard Bargain: Part IV**  
Warning: Explicit sexual content (rape, violence)  
Disclaimer: I don't own heroes, I just like to pretend

"No one's coming to rescue you this time Claire." He gripped her around the waist and lifted her into his arms, pinning her to him with so little effort she wanted to scream at the injustice of it. "Vengeance is a terrible thing Claire." He told her as he stalked from the house, slamming the door closed behind him, and carrying her into the night, his ability crushing her voice box thoroughly so she couldn't make a peep. "All you had to do was finish the job, cut me up, burn me, separate the head from the body, or put me through a meat grinder... anything, except waking me up. But you couldn't do it; you just had to have your moment." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "That's why I love you," he gazed down at her and she had to fight the gag reflex afresh, because he certainly looked sincere.

He walked purposefully to a car that had been stashed down an alleyway, she could only assume it was the car he'd arrived in. Fishing the keys out of his pocket he grinned as he dropped her onto her feet and pushed her headfirst into the car. She had no choice as he manhandled her into the passenger seat, locking and breaking the seatbelt just for good measure, when she was in. He slipped in beside her and drove her away.

They were silent for a good while, as he drove through the remainder of the night and into the dawn, when the sun rose it should have lifted her spirits some, after all he was a bloodstained mess, maybe they'd get lucky and he'd be spotted. When he spoke again she was pointedly sunk down in her seat staring out the window.

"Your family is still alive... which given that I could have used the power of flight, and especially the Haitian's, is a fairly big gesture on my part." She ignored him. It was the wrong thing to do, he grabbed her chin and yanked her face around to his. "They're insurance Claire. You try and run, I won't find you, I'll find them. That bitch of a grandmother and I have a score to settle, believe me she'll suffer." Claire paled and nodded, there wasn't much else she could do, she believed him. After all he had no other reason to leave them all alive, granted some had been in better shape than others but they had been alive.

"And when I'm done with them Claire, I'll go find Sandra and Lyle... innocents in all this, and I'll make them beg for death. Do you hear me!" he spat at her, his eyes blazing. Claire nodded roughly and tore her head from his grasp, so she could let her tears fall without him seeing. "Good girl." He replied finally, returning to face the empty straight road again. So far he'd avoided most of the major roads and highways, if her family was tracking her they'd have a hard time of it she realised dully. He was certainly taking the scenic route.

He stopped once for gas and take-out, locking her securely in the boot for the duration, and once to let her pee on the side of the road, that was it, he wasn't taking any chances with her. Perhaps she should have felt relieved when they pulled into a motel, she'd been able to glean enough from the road signs that they were somewhere past Kentucky, maybe closer towards Tenessee, either way it was a fair enough distance from New York. But the relief of the idea of getting out of the hot stuffy car was muted when she remembered she would be in a hotel room with the man that had brutally raped her not 12 hours ago.

He stopped the car in the local parking lot, which seemed to be housing more sleeping truckers than anything else. He reached for her and she flinched, trying to put distance between them in the small car. It just succeeded in pissing him off, he grabbed her hair and tugged her back so that his face loomed over hers. "You are not going to make a peep to anyone when we get out of this car. You're not going to make eyes at some lone trucker, or the guy at the counter, in the hopes that they'll call the cops." He shook her head, no doubt pulling some hairs out by the root. "Are you!" it wasn't a question and she sullenly responded.

"No." He released her head sharply, letting her sit back up.

"If you scream, people will come running... and I'll kill them. You don't want that on your conscience do you Claire?" Claire examined her nails thoroughly, before shaking her head, as she blinked back tears. How had she gotten here?

He opened his door, and she contemplated simply sitting there and letting him drag her out, but as she glanced out the window she noticed a trucker sat in his seat, feet up, watching her intently, so much so that he gave her a small wave. Her breath caught as she realised Sylar had seen him too... had he seen him pulling at her hair? Damn it. She didn't want to have to care about the trucker, didn't want to be at Sylar's mercy simply because she happened to have a conscience. But she did and so she slid out of the car and shut the door, taking Sylar's arm as he rounded on her and offering him a small smile; that vanished the moment they were out of sight.

The man behind the register was of no use even if she'd have wanted. He was half asleep, he grunted wearily and opened up the drawer handing them a key in exchange for cash for a room, then he was back feet up on the desk, trying to sleep. Claire stared at him a little desperately, she didn't want to be in that room with Sylar. But he'd picked up on the change in her, and forcefully wheeled her towards the room. Her feet stuck in, but he was so much larger he just picked her up in his arms, and laughed gently, kissing her hair. Of course anyone watching would think it was just a happy display, of course they missed the words he hissed at her.

"Behave or I'll find a family to tear apart in front of you." That did it of course, and she mutely allowed him to open the motel room door and carry her across, depositing her heavily on the bed as he slammed the door shut, locking it without even glancing backwards with a flick of his fingers.

Claire scrambled backwards over the bed, she'd be damned if she'd behave for him in this shit hole of a motel room where no one could see. If he wanted her she wasn't going to make it as easy as last time. Of course it wasn't like she'd been willing the last time, she recalled vividly as he slammed her into the wall from his position at the door; that smirk on his lips. He was behind her before she was even aware of him moving; he grasped her wrists and held them wide, pressing her front even further into the flimsy wall. His lips were by her ear so when he whispered she didn't have to strain to hear him.

"The walls are thin Claire, real thin. And there are people on either side. People that might be alarmed to hear a young woman screaming and crying. They would probably come to investigate. I think you know what would happen then Claire." She nodded, pressing her forehead into the wall for support, and trying to ignore the tears that she'd managed yet again to spill. "We're going to be real quiet babydoll." He rasped pushing her jeans down, having released her hands. But from his position behind her with her flat against the wall her arms weren't all that manoeuvrable.

He yanked her top clean off without preamble, she had no underwear on... Angela hadn't provided her with any, after all they were just supposed to have been getting rid of him. The thought forced her to choke back a sob, as his warm skin pressed against her back, she could feel the hairs on his chest, as he slid down licking a trail all the way to her backside, which he fondled gently for good measure. She wasn't overly surprised when he grasped her wrists and bound them together with duct tape, all supplies he kept in his trunk she'd recalled from her brief time spent in there earlier.

Her hands bound he apparently felt safe enough to turn her around, he didn't waste time in moments his hands were around her ass and he'd got her hoisted up around his waist, pressing her back into the wall. From this position she could look directly into his eyes. She recalled a moment at Primactech barely a few months ago when he'd pinned her to a wall, threatened her father, her mother, her grandmother, tried to make her choose. But she hadn't seen any trace of the things in his face now, what had changed?

"Why are you doing this?" she asked quietly, trying to ignore the feel of his hands as they swept her curves, sliding into places she'd rather he wouldn't, but she attempted to keep her face neutral. He looked mildly amused at the question.

"You killed me, or at least you came a darn site closer than anyone else. That's twice now you've stabbed me with something sharp. And you weren't using any abilities, it was just you." he grinned stroking her hair. "You're fascinating." He pressed his hand against her stomach and slid it deliberately lower, until he was between her legs and with a stroke he shoved two fingers inside of her. She bucked, hissing with surprise at his sudden attack, she didn't understand why he bothered, it wasn't like she could feel it if he chose to rape her without getting her ready. It was as if he could read the expression on her face.

"I like it when you come." He replied, kissing her cheek as he pushed insistently trying to get a reaction from her body. "I want you to want this Claire."

She laughed, perhaps not the wisest move, but the statement was so purely Sylar, and completely insane that she couldn't help it. He delivered a sound smack across her face for her trouble with his other hand. She stopped, and merely glared daggers at him as he managed to get her breath to hitch with a particular rhythm.

But for once her body seemed to be doing what she wanted, she was tired, scared, and utterly disgusted, and it must have shown because he got fed up. He met her dark glare deliberately taking his fingers out slowly, before he slammed something altogether bigger and harder inside her. She wasn't ready for him; that was clear as she felt every inch of him drag along her inner walls, and tear through her virginity... again, she hated when he was right.

The last time he'd taken her this way it had been slow, languid, he'd forced her to come because he'd wanted it. But right now he seemed to just want to fuck her, hard. Her joined hands flattened against the wall behind her in an attempt to spare them snapping as he drove her sharply into it. She didn't have to participate and that was just fine with her, as he took hold of her hips, bouncing her body over him with increasing tempo, until he was sweating and panting. His mouth attempted to latch onto hers and she managed with some supreme effort to slip out and concede her neck to him instead which he bit down hard on, as if to prove a point. Not that it made a difference to her, she couldn't feel the pain of it, and it would be healed within moments.

When he grew frantic she panicked, a tingling low in her abdomen was beginning, and his large hands fondling her breasts was increasing it. She opened her eyes and stared hard, making sure her whole body was fully aware exactly who and what was doing this to her. The feeling snapped off and she felt him shudder, as he emptied himself inside of her; she simply hung there, entirely supported, feeling utterly used; better than shamed into feeling something though.

He didn't release her, simply held tight, heaving with the exertion, and sweating all over her. He opened his eyes and raised her head to meet him, clearly he didn't like the blank look she was levelling at him because he slipped from her swiftly and tossed her onto the bed like a rag doll. In moments she was pinned, and her legs splayed; she'd barely had time to process what he was doing then his head disappeared between her legs and she cried out in surprise.

She tried to kick him away, bucking and squirming trying to evade the tongue that was invading her most private area. He just exerted his ability and she was held immobile, all she could do was heave and gasp, as he delved into her, the feel of his tongue, the stubble against her thighs, it was too much. Then he added fingers and she was writhing inside; clawing for that feeling of indifference she'd managed as he'd raped her against the wall.

But it wouldn't return, whatever he was doing, it was too much for her body to ignore, and her body already ignored so much. She'd had exactly two orgasms now, this was the worst, and she was basing that on its ability to shame her. She came hard, bucking and mewling, practically clawing at the bed sheets. When he'd reappeared he'd forced his way into her mouth again, making her taste herself; which was helpful because it reminded her just how god awful this was. She'd thought that would be the end of the ordeal, when he'd pulled off the duct tape around her wrists she'd dared to hope.

But he seemed insatiable. Her body was flipped over, he drew her up onto her knees, pushing her head down into the mattress again. Fear twisted in her gut, as he hovered between entrances; it was almost a relief when he slammed into her and tore afresh her virginity. Whatever he'd done with his tongue and his fingers had left her sensitive and throbbing, and completely slick for him. From this angle he hit the spot inside of her so deep she had to bite down on the pillow in front to keep from calling out, she'd never give him the satisfaction. He drove into her from behind with utter determination, and she was quivering around him in what seemed like moments. Tears spilled out with that orgasm, he'd stolen it, and she felt filthy.

When she collapsed onto the bed, she'd prayed for mercy, from anyone. He spooned up behind her and slid inside again. This times his hands were everywhere, pulling, pushing stroking, forcing their way into her mouth, circling the swollen nub between her legs. He was slow this time, completely unhurried as she sobbed quietly with every bit of pleasure he teased from her unwilling body.

With his seed trickling down her legs she tried to get to the bathroom, but he wouldn't release her. His mouth insistently found hers, as he rolled over her, he was inside her again in moments and she bucked, desperate now for him to stop. She thrashed her head, her body heaving between sheer panic; absolute exhaustion and blinding pleasure. "Every time I fail to make you come for me, I'm going to take you all night long, until your whole body is one over sensitised bundle of nerves." Claire recoiled, that wasn't fair... it wasn't right, he couldn't. But as he flattened her onto her stomach and slid into her ass, his dick coated so heavily with her come that she hardly felt it she realised nothing was fair in this. If she refused to play by not coming, so much as once, he'd rape her brutally until all she could think about was coming.

"I'm not going to touch you this time Claire." He rasped against the back of her neck as he slammed into her ass, grunting with the effort as she clenched around him trying in some way to force him out, but only seeming to increase his pleasure. "And you know the penalty for not coming. I can do this all night. There are literally thousands of ways I can do this." He pulled her head back so she could grasp his meaning. "Touch yourself; come for me and I'll stop for tonight." Claire ducked her head into the pillow, trying not to clench in tension around him, but apparently he was eager for her not to fail in her task, because he gripped her hand and forced it down between her legs for her. He was speeding up, practically bucking as he slammed into her, she knew that meant he'd be ready in a few minutes... she didn't want him in her mouth again, not after this, which she was certain was next if she didn't comply.

Closing her eyes and trying not to think about what anyone would think of her, she began to touch herself, teasing the extremely swollen areas, the pleasure was sharp enough that it actually hurt, she was so surprised to be feeling pain, from pleasure that she almost stopped. Sylar grew frantic and she recovered herself, working frantically to give him what he wanted so maybe he'd leave her alone. Relief flooded her as she clenched tightly, her body convulsing a little with the intensity of it. To her surprise and dismay he pulled out of her fully, just in time to spill himself all over her back. She flinched, feeling beyond sick. He let her lie there, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "That's my Claire." He breathed, tracing his tongue inside her ear.

When he stood he pulled her up, and she was shocked to realise that her legs weren't exactly holding her. He ushered her into the bathroom. But that seemed to be where his generosity ended. He had a shower, she wasn't permitted one, instead she was allowed to use the toilet that was all. She'd been too tired to argue, as she waited for him to finish, handing him his towel as requested. She didn't bother asking why she couldn't shower; she assumed that the answer would just disturb her anyway. But he'd obliged her as he dragged her back into the bed, wrapping himself solidly around her.

"You smell like sex Claire. Like sex and me." He breathed in deeply, and smiled quietly. Yes she definitely hadn't wanted to know. Sex was evidently tiring, rape or consensual, although she had no idea what consensual sex actually felt like at this point. But she'd slept so heavily, that all thoughts of escaping during the night had vanished in a haze of surprisingly very few nightmares.

She'd awoken to find Sylar pressed against her back, as usual he seemed hard. The moment her eyes opened he'd dragged her from the bed and into the shower. So this had been his plan... he promises to leave her alone for the night, but sets her up with a highly necessary shower for the morning.

Claire tried to enjoy the feeling of the water cleaning her, washing him and his scent away, but it was hard when he was currently hard at work on her again. Pressed against the back of the shower, her legs around his waist she tried to remember the penalty for not coming. She didn't want another night like last night, not ever if she could help it. So she tried to relax, tried to let the warm water soothe her as he thrust hard, trying to show her just how much of a man he was... that he could rape the little cheerleader in the shower and she had to come for him. She didn't and his face was like thunder, she felt hysteria bubble over inside of her at that look.

"Perhaps I wasn't clear." Sylar started and she grasped his arms.

"You were; I'm sorry, I'm tired." She pleaded, hating herself for doing it but desperate enough that she was willing anyway. He stepped close to her so their noses were touching.

"Claire I've been good to you." she blanched, keeping wisely quiet, as his hands slid along her waist to grip her firmly. "I haven't asked you to perform any lewd sex acts;" he paused, "well apart from that one," he conceded and she thought he may have miscalculated somewhere. "But if you push me I will stop being so pleasant. I will degrade you, chain you, break you, I'll turn you into an object of filth." He was deadly serious and she was shaking, both through terror and a fair amount of rage. He couldn't speak to her like this, couldn't do this to her! But as he forced her to her knees and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pushing her head under the stream of water and onto his waiting cock she realised he really could.

He was rough with her, more than once her head slammed back against the tiles of the shower under the force of his thrusts, leaving blood trails and she was close to blacking out from lack of air, with his cock down her throat and the water in her nose she was almost desperate. Her mouth of course wasn't really under her control; she was just a living puppet with a warm orifice he could abuse. Black dots danced in front of her eyes and he was showing no signs of finishing soon; she dreaded to think what he might do to her if she were unconscious so she raised her hand and grasped his balls. He stilled, and she felt phantom hands around her wrists, but as she massaged them gently, trying to force him to come faster he began thrusting with abandon. She swallowed him when he came hard in her mouth, it was definitely a taste she could do without ever again.


	5. Chapter 5

Hard Bargain: Part V  
Warning: Explicit Sexual content (rape, violence)  
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, I just like to pretend

He never left her alone, when he'd stepped out of the shower he stood there waiting and watching her whilst she took the hair products he offered her wordlessly. Evidently he wanted her to look nice whilst he fucked her. The bitterness crept over her so suddenly, and she was finding it hard to simply accommodate him, after all, she'd already broken the only rule he'd given her in the shower, and her night was forfeit. What more could he do to her? But he knew her and as he'd bundled her in the passenger seat securing her firmly and taking the opportunity to slide hands all over her, he reminded her of the family she'd left behind, all the extensions of it, and what he'd do to them if she didn't behave like the good little sex slave he clearly wanted her to be.

The journey was much the same as the previous, they travelled the whole day, which given as they hadn't left till noon wasn't all in sunlight. Fourteen hours of silence, until they skirted the edges of New Orleans, even here the damage from Katrina was evident. He found them another motel, even cheaper and cruddier than the last one, although this one was practically empty, very few people around to come running if she found the need to scream too much to bare. The motel had individual rooms spread over the courtyard, no conjoining walls, which meant that no one would be in ear shot, or even in view as the door was facing out into the forest.

When he pulled her around the side she struggled, she couldn't take another night like the last, his hand went around her mouth and he dragged her inside, she managed to latch onto the inside of the door frame. He slammed the door shut with his mind, fracturing her fingers, which didn't bother her in the slightest, except for the fact that it cost her their use momentarily which allowed him to prise her loose. The door closed as her fingers healed and she was tossed unceremoniously onto the small bed; it would barely hold the two of them as it was.

"Wait please." She wasn't above begging. "Sylar please." She held up her hands backing away from his steadily encroaching form as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, dropping it deliberately onto the floor behind him. "Do you really love me?" The words tasted like acid on her tongue, but he stopped, and that was all that mattered, she backed into the corner of the room and stared at him.

"I honestly don't know." He replied quirking a large dark eyebrow at her. e croHH

He crossed his arms across his chest and stared straight back at her. "I've never loved anything before."

"What about Elle?" Claire knew she'd made a mistake the moment the words left her lips, but she couldn't take them back no matter how hard she prayed. He still stalked forward and slammed his hands into the wall either side of her head, trapping her. But she didn't dare look away, his face; his whole expression told her that she had asked so she was damn well going to listen.

"Elle was a fantasy, something I thought I wanted, something I thought I could have. But she was nothing, less than that. She manipulated me, all the while telling me that we don't have to be manipulated by anyone. She was so like me... but fragile, she thought she loved me too, and when I killed her she just let me." He paused and his hands came around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. "She was pathetic and she disgusted me with it." He pushed her sharply back into the wall, so he could press himself fully against her, letting her feel just how far from disgusted he was with her.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Claire ventured again, not content with the answer he'd given, and she needed something, some reason.

He leant his head closer and there was no grin twisting his features now. "Why not?" Claire drew in a sharp breath, trying not to scream, to wail or sob, trying simply to absorb his callous answer. He smirked now and his hands slid further around her, until his thumbs brushed her nipples beneath the top. "I think you are an obsession." He replied finally, not removing his hands or stopping his ministrations. He lowered and it took her a moment to realise he was kneeling, he was so much taller than her that even now his head reached almost to her chest, which he placed gently over her stomach.

"I never had to fight so hard for an ability, never had to search, and suffer so much because of one. There were so many obstacles to you." he lifted the jumper and pressed his cheek against the smooth skin of her stomach. "It just made me want it so much more. But when I had it..." he looked up and she couldn't take her eyes away. "I couldn't just leave, I wanted more from you, I just didn't know what else I could take. Your family seemed ideal, they had been responsible for so many of the things in my life. I wanted them to suffer, wanted you to suffer through them. My ultimate payback, was to make you just like me... just like they made me." He pressed a kiss to her stomach and she tried not to flinch as his tongue laced into her bellybutton. "But you weren't like me." He grinned, she could feel it against her skin, "No matter what I did, oh you got colder, sharper, but you could never take that step."

He yanked her down to her knees in front of him with a sharp tug at her waist, before taking her face in his hands. "I wanted proof that there was good in this world. That everyone wasn't like me, I thought if I could twist you, it would prove once and for all that there wasn't." Claire felt she saw dimly where this was going, as his lips brushed hers feather light, and she forced herself to remain very still. His hands delved into her hair, caressing and playing with the long golden locks she was stuck with for eternity. "I never expected to find proof Claire that it might actually exist..." His eyes swirled with so many emotions that she didn't know where to start; her mind was reeling, trying to process his words. Was she hope? Was that what he saw when he looked at her?

"Then why are you doing this to me?" she pressed keeping her eyes locked with his, knowing they were flooded with the pain and terror he had unleashed. "You've kidnapped me, raped me, degraded me and terrorized me. Where does it end?"

Sylar blinked and for a moment she thought she saw a flash of regret, but it was gone when his eyes reopened. "When you love me." His mouth attacked hers then and she had nowhere to escape too, no defence against him except passivity. She would never love him, of that she was certain, which meant that this would never end. He raped her until she blacked out, her body was good but even it needed rest. She woke briefly, to find him still abusing her tired body with or without her; she'd welcomed the blackness when it engulfed her again.

---*---

The journey the next day she hadn't been able to look at him, just the smell of him, his aftershave it made her stomach turn. She'd seen the state of the sheets, and that had been enough to let her thank whatever gods had let this happen to her, for at least having the decency to let her be unconscious for it. Unfortunately he seemed to be viewing things in a slightly different light, he seemed to have thought he'd opened up to her last night, that somehow that put them in a different light.

He'd taken her hand more than once, and every other minute he seemed to feel the need to touch her, stroke her, kiss her. Claire did nothing, except stare ahead, but that didn't seem to matter, at one point she actually worried that he was going to pull over the car on a dusty stretch of road and take her violently.

Instead he'd grabbed her hand and shoved it in his crotch instead, she would've taken the opportunity to pull it off, but he didn't present her with it. Although it was her hand she had zero control over it as it moved, fondling, squeezing and pumping until he was spent. Feeling sicker than before he returned her hand to her and she sat there trying to look as unappealing as possible, which considering she hadn't changed her clothes in a couple of days she imagined was becoming possible.

---*---

Claire suffered through three more days of silent car drives, of his incessant touch, and the god awful nights when she prayed her freak show of a body would give up on her and simply let her die. She got the impression that he was circling, if anyone was following, if anyone saw them, then they'd have no idea what his true destination was.

On the third night however he pulled up into a drive, to a small house, it was out in the sticks of course, in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Montana. She'd walked into the house, as opposed to being dragged, at least walking gave her something to do. He guided her through the darkened house, which had seemed nice enough outside to a room towards the back. The moment he'd opened the door she'd tried to run, tried to claw her way past him, and make a run to the deserted road. It was pointless, and she was tossed inside, just like she had been every other time she'd tried to run.

"You don't have to do this." she promised him. "I'll be good I promise." She cringed even as she said it, but couldn't take the words back, she'd do anything to avoid what she suspected was about to happen.

"No you won't Claire. Most girls, particularly girls your age, with your background, and such little sexual experience... they'd have broken by now. I know; I tried it on another girl, granted she could feel pain, but I had to be sure for you." Claire stared at him open mouthed, her stomach clenched painfully and her throat burned as she forced her tears to stay buried. He'd practiced on some poor girl before her... just to prepare. "By the second night she wouldn't have said boo to a goose let alone deliberately aggravated me."

He gripped her wrist, tightly and dragged her forward. "And she certainly didn't try to hit me." He sighed, "I did realise though that perhaps she wasn't sufficiently like you to make it a fair test. So I picked someone else, tried to match her temperament to yours, same background, same home life, well aside from your daddy of course... but no one quite has a daddy the same as yours. Still I did my best, neglectful and doting, not an easy combination to find, she even had an ability."

Claire grimaced as he manoeuvred her onto the solid wood table in the middle of the room, trying not to imagine how he could have done this to two girls, all in some sick effort to be ready for her. "She used to cry in the end, whenever I called her Claire, but she wasn't you, I could never quite get the same effect, that buzz when I'm near you, it just wasn't there. Do you know what her name was, the second girl...well woman really?" he asked, picking up one of the chains, Claire watched morbidly fascinated as he flattened out her arm and slammed the metal shaft at the end of the chain straight through her wrist. She heard the bones snap and splinter making way, felt them rearrange around the object, healing in place. He smiled seemingly pleased with the effect as he attached it to the metal brackets in the table beneath, and proceeded to her other side.

"Not even a guess?" Sylar prodded, drawing her attention back to his words as he slammed the steel chains through pinning her other wrist. "Tracy." He supplied helpfully. Claire looked at him a little blankly, the name rang a distant bell, but she was a little too preoccupied as he moved towards her legs to think clearly. "Oh you know Tracy, tall blonde, ice queen, far too ambitious for her own good, friend of Nathan's."

Claire blanched recalling the woman, just knowing that it was someone she'd met, someone her father had liked, somehow that made it worse. Sylar lowered a hand to her stomach, "Look what Tracy could do." He breathed and she watched as ice crawled along her skin, it hardened and cracked, eyeing Sylar she wondered if he'd shatter the expanse of her stomach, just to see what would happen, thankfully he didn't and her skin returned to its original colour when he removed his hand. "Fortunately Mohinder was with her." He grinned and Claire felt the knife twist that little bit deeper. "Breaking him was too easy, I didn't even have to touch him. Pathetic, but at least he'd tried to better himself, even if he was a little misguided."

The steel shaft slammed through her calf and she grimaced, not in pain, but as her bones knit around the steel shaft she realised that breaking free of these would be near impossible. She didn't have the strength to snap her own bones for starters. "Mohinder was quite helpful though in the end." Sylar continued as if he wasn't pinning her violently to a wooden block with chains. "Tried to offer me a few with abilities to save himself a few moments of pain... of course he was upset when I told him Elle's personnel affects had already provided me with enough to last a lifetime. No it was his ability that I took. It did need some modifications, it wasn't quite right, his formula had made a few grievous errors. But I have a knack for seeing to the heart of a problem, to know just how to fix it." He leant over her head, dropping a kiss on the end of her nose. "You've actually been benefitting from his ability recently, without the enhanced strength and stamina, not to mention an enhanced sex drive, I'm sure our nights would have been far less eventful."

Claire closed her eyes at that and refused to open them again, to her surprise he didn't force her; he just went back to work, pinning her other leg into place. The final chain, with an extra long end, connected to a flat piece of steel at the top before the chain itself; he didn't hesitate before driving straight through her stomach. It was a strange sensation as he locked her in place, her own body acting like a cage; she couldn't tear free, she didn't have enough wiggle room to put any strength into the idea. He disappeared briefly and she took a moment to examine not only the room but the brackets that held the chains in place, if they were weak in some way she might be able to yank them free. He was back before she'd really had a chance to note much of anything. He was carrying two bags of something, a clear fluid. Claire frowned at them, as he pulled out what was clearly a needle.

"Saline drips Claire." He replied to her obvious interest in what he was going to be sticking her with. "I'm going away for a few days, and although I'm quite certain your body would be quite fine without food and water for a fairly long span, it seemed callous of me not to at least try and keep you comfortable." Claire blinked and gave a half glance at the steel that pinned her through flesh and bone to a hard wooden table. He shrugged and slipped the needle smoothly into the back of her hand; he lifted the bag and hung it up on the wall behind her head.

"How long?" she asked hesitantly, regretting it instantly at his smirk.

"Missing me already?"

Claire pulled a face and turned her head away, looking at the plastered ceiling instead of him, an answer in itself. His fingers grazed over her arm, stroking gently in small circles. "Hopefully a few days, but we'll see. There's a strong sedative in that drip, it will start to take effect soon, I had to up the dosage for your metabolism, but it should keep you relaxed and sleepy for most of it."

Claire didn't comment; the unspoken fact that she wouldn't be able to engage in anything as taxing as an escape attempt was implied. His lips pressed over hers and his tongue swept into her mouth, she realised he'd meant it to be brief, but he didn't seem able to pull away as his hands took hold of her face, deepening his kiss. It didn't seem to matter to him that her mouth was slack against his, or that her lips were still as he sucked at them, so long as he got to taste her. He pulled away, pressing light kisses to her lips. "I'll be back soon." He promised and stalked from the room. Claire longed to shout after him, some biting comment, but she didn't dare, she heard the front door slam, and the unmistakeable sound of locks sliding into place. By the time she heard the car start up her eyes were getting heavy, then she simply drifted.


	6. Chapter 6

Hard Bargain: Part VI  
Warning: Sexual Content  
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, I just like to pretend

It was a strange existence, there wasn't any light in her room, because the one window had been boarded up, so she had no idea how many days she was like that. He hadn't provided her with any amenities, and although whatever he'd given her seemed to be slowing her metabolism just fine, she was still human. Thankfully in her drugged state she'd hardly noticed, it was just yet another way he'd managed to degrade her. She was barely awake when he finally returned; the sound of the door roused her. She was feeling so down that the idea that it might be someone other than Sylar never occurred to her.

He swept into the room and she screamed as pain flooded her body, it caused her to buck and that only made it worse. The drugs pulled at her, but the pain was intense, it was everywhere, it took too much concentration for her to localise it, but eventually it dawned on her that it was coming from the areas where the steel pins held her. She turned her head sharply to look at them, blood was dripping down her wrists, she lifted her head trying not to move as she took in her stomach, blood was pooling there.

"Interesting." Sylar mused, and she tried to focus on breathing the pain was so intense. "Quite a multi-faceted power this. So many nuances." His fingers trailed along her arm up to her neck and she couldn't feel it for the agony that seemed to blind her. He closed his eyes and the pain receded, and she could finally breathe again. She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her intently.

"I need to stand." She told him, surprised at how level her voice was.

"And shower." He noted coldly, she ignored him, honestly not caring what he thought of her.

"Gone off me already?" she jabbed slightly, feeling more confident now that he'd been out of her life for a few days.

He stared her straight in the eyes, and she felt the full force of him in that gaze. "Never." Pain tore through her and she screamed, under no illusions as to what a smart mouth would get her. He raised a hand over the steel bolt at her wrist whilst she bit down on her lip until it bled in an effort not to scream. The bolt tore free and she screamed herself hoarse, he was doing this somehow, he'd found a way to turn her pain back on. It wasn't until the second one was wrenched out and she began to feel light headed that she realised wide eyed, that he hadn't just taken her pain, blood was flowing freely from the gaping wounds in her wrists, and they weren't healing.

"The Haitian?" she whispered, not able to speak any louder, as the pain in her gut began to sear.

Sylar paused hovering over her legs. "Clever girl. But then I never thought you were the blonde bimbo they all seem to take you for." Claire absorbed that with a mounting sense of dread, if Sylar had gotten to the Haitian, gotten his powers... then with hers and the others he had collected he would be damn near impossible to kill. The bone in her leg snapped as he tore the steel free and she lost consciousness from the agony of it. She came to just in time to feel him rip the one from her stomach, thankfully that sent her out for good.

Claire took her time opening her eyes, wherever she was it was warm, she wasn't chained, and she wasn't in pain. In her book that meant she could savour it a moment longer. Then arms slid around her and she became aware of the warm body pressed against her and the moment was over. She opened her eyes, and his midnight black ones met her.

"Welcome back." He told her quietly, she attempted to roll away, but he held her fast, not even letting her turn her head from his. "I thought you would be pleased Claire." He added sounding almost hurt.

Claire raised an eyebrow and glared at him in disbelief. "Pleased you're back to rape me?" she tried to grasp his meaning, "or pleased that you were able to cause me so much pain I blacked out?" She'd never imagined that she could regret pain, she'd always welcomed it, even when she'd been shot just to feel it again had been everything... he'd ruined even that for her.

"Both." He replied smoothly. He crushed her to his chest, holding her fast and rolling her so that she was pinned beneath him and his already masterful erection. She took a moment to absorb the fact that she was naked, and clean, and completely healed before she tried to block out his presence. "Don't you see Claire?" he brushed a finger across her cheek, and she turned away, he let her. "I know how you felt when you lost the ability to feel pain; I remember what I felt from you that day when I pulled you from the vortex. I know how isolated it made you feel...inhuman." He kissed her cheek lingering there too long for it to be idle. "I can make you feel again Claire, make you normal again..." he held her face and she found herself staring up at him. "Isn't that what you want?" He brushed her face with his thumbs and she could almost feel his desperation for her to accept him. His hand brushed against her waist and she gasped as a flash of cold ran along her skin, straight down her spine.

Cold... she'd actually felt it. "As long as you're with me Claire, as long as we're together, I can let you feel whatever you want to. Whenever you want to." He ducked his head and pressed his lips into her skin. She gasped, it felt so real... the feel of his tongue as he traced to the hollow in her throat, she hadn't realised she'd already lost so much of her sense of touch.

"Tell me it's what you want Claire." He pressed, his hands sliding down her suddenly sensitive skin, she couldn't help shivering.

"No." She breathed; a groan escaped her as his mouth took hold of a nipple and liquid heat shot through her, straight to her abdomen. His hand slid down her front, slowly and deliberately until he skirted between her legs. Every muscle seemed to clench and when he stroked one long finger along her she couldn't hide her surprise at the ripple of pleasure that radiated out and curled her toes.

"You're wet Claire." He rasped, and she squirmed beneath his touch, trying to close her legs and cut off his fingers path to her. If it was possible she felt him harden further against her stomach. "I knew I could give you what you needed." He rasped and his finger plunged inside of her. Claire bucked, it felt nothing like before, and she bit down on her lip at the feel of him inside her. She was responding whether she wanted to or not, the absolute joy of feeling something, as intensely as she was in that moment was overriding everything else. A second finger pushed inside of her and she winced, feeling him wiggle his fingers into her tight entrance stretching the delicate skin. She groaned as he pushed his way in, not giving an inch until he was able to glide into her smoothly, stroking every inch of her.

"That's it Claire, that's it, so beautiful Claire, this is how it always should have been." He rasped into her ear, over and over her name falling from his lips like some kind of prayer as he his fingers drew ever more desperate noises from her. The pressure was building inside of her like some terrible explosion was waiting. He pulled his fingers and she almost called out in protest... almost. "I'll be gentle Claire." He promised and she panicked, the feel of his long, hard dick pressed between her legs and she tried to escape.

"No wait...Sylar." she didn't know what she was pleading, he had already taken her so many times, torn through her virginity with absolute abandon, her pleas had done nothing then. "I'm scared." She managed, not able to understand why it was suddenly so different, but now, feeling everything, knowing he would tear through her and it would hurt; it was somehow so much more real.

"Shhh Claire." He stroked her face and pushed, inching slowly into her.

She squeezed her eyes closed trying not to cry out at the dull pain as he stretched her, so much larger than mere fingers. "Sylar please... it hurts." She rasped as he pressed further, he was so big, and she was tiny in comparison. Pain wasn't something she was accustomed too, even before this her sense of pain had certainly been deadened, she'd only ever felt something for mere moments. She squeezed her eyes shut as he reached her barrier and pushed against it, she cried out, it was like a slow fire, tearing at her.

"It'll only hurt for a moment Claire." He promised, as he slid back, he rocked gently, and she couldn't hold the groan in, couldn't help but tense as he did, before he thrust into her with one long stroke. She cried out lightly, ashamed to feel tears on her face, as he stilled inside her. Memories washed through her of that night in her grandmother's mansion. The way he had taken her virginity then, she could only imagine how terrible, how painful it would have been if she'd have felt it. But he wasn't forceful now, he didn't slam into her, didn't take her until he'd made sure she was ready. She almost wished he would, then at least she could feel the way she was supposed to feel beneath her rapist.

"Stop it." She gasped; fury and terror reeling through her as one. "Please just stop being so gentle, stop it!" She pleaded, screaming her absolute confusion at him. "It shouldn't feel this way." She sobbed now, clutching at his shoulders desperately, before shoving at his chest. He didn't budge, and he didn't move within her, his hard heat blazed in her and she just wanted him to move. He kissed her and she was too angry to protest, too angry not to want to fight his mouth. He didn't block her jaw this time, it was fully under her control as she bit sharply at his lips, at his tongue, gagging on the taste of copper in her mouth, but he didn't withdraw and her tongue duelled with his. She attacked his mouth savagely, wanting him to feel pain, to know that she hated him with her every breath even as her body craved his touch.

He began to move within her, not taking his mouth from hers, one hand slid beneath her and pulled her leg up to his hip and he slipped deeper, drawing a sharp breath from her. It ached as he moved, but he was slow and his other hand slipped between them rubbing her gently. Soon enough the ache began to subside and all she could feel was a tingling that spread. His mouth on hers was making her lips numb as he kept up his ministrations with fervour. She came quietly, wrapped in his arms, his mouth swallowing the noise as it escaped her, a few gentle long strokes and he joined her.

He slid from her smoothly, not lingering as he usually did, the moment he did she became aware of the dull ache between her legs, she felt bruised, and exhausted, her eyes were heavy, yet at the same time, she felt oddly sated. Somehow shame didn't fill her, either she was too tired, or the gentle way he was holding her was forcing her for just a moment to pretend that it hadn't been rape.

"I love you." he rasped, still catching his breath as he placed a trail of kisses down her body. "It could always be like this Claire."

She knew he meant it, knew he felt it. She reached down and grasped his face in her hands, forcing him to look up at her. "Let me go." He tensed, his eyes flashing, she didn't release him, "Let me go back to my family. Let me live my life." His expression was growing darker, she'd have only moments to get her plea across. "We're immortal." That gave him pause, "You can wait for me forever if you have to."

"Why wait." Sylar snapped, "I have you now."

"If you let me go, let me live my life, just until my family are..." she paused unable to even think it. "I'll come back to you. You'd be the only one left anyway, the only one that could make me feel again." Sylar paused and studied her face intently. "I'd be willing." She pleaded, not able to imagine a time so far ahead, but knowing that if there was ever a chance it would be then. For a normal life with her family, she'd make this bargain any day if it spared her the here and now.

"I can't go that long without you." he wasn't being romantic, just frank and she felt a tremor start, he wouldn't let her go... He slid up to her and she looked away, not able to stop the tears that began to slip down her face. He brushed a thumb over them, drawing her face back to his. "If I give you back to them," her eyes widened at the tone of his voice, he was thinking, considering. "You get until Nathan, Bennet and Angela pass away, Peter is too much of an unknown, if he reacquires his natural ability who's to say if he'll die at all."

"You have to give me your word you won't kill them, won't come after them." Maybe she was pushing her luck, but it would be just like Sylar to make a deal like that then kill them all the next day.

He smiled and pressed a kiss into the corner of her mouth. "Done." His face grew serious, "In return for that additional clause, I have one of my own." Claire was still, waiting, she felt like she was making a deal with the devil. "Once a week you're going to give me what I want."

Claire shook her head, and he tightened his grip on her. "Once a year."

"This isn't negotiable Claire."

"Once a week is impossible, people would know. It's too much. I wouldn't be able to live my life." Panic was clawing at her, once a week would be infinitely better than here, but would make having a normal life almost impossible.

"Once a week you'd get to feel something Claire." He kissed her neck then, biting a point behind her ear that made her gasp.

"Once a month." She ran her hands into his hair, drawing his head back up to hers. "Please. Once a month I'm yours, willingly, then when it's time I'll just be yours."

"Kiss me." Claire met his penetrating stare and leant forward, capturing his mouth, she didn't bite, didn't protest. She kissed him, if this was the act that gave her back her life, however fleetingly she would take it. He deepened the kiss, questing with his tongue for hers; she met him, exploring his mouth, and drawing a moan from him in the process. He ended the kiss slowly, drawing back to stroke her face and trace her lips with his fingers.

"Once a month." He agreed. The dull ache between her legs vanished, and the feel of his hands against her skin lost its warmth, she could barely feel him. Tears welled in her eyes, god damn him, he made her feel something, and now she couldn't bare not to; the thought of feeling this way forever, hollow, like she wasn't even really there; it was almost unbearable. Sylar was smiling at her, he knew, knew exactly how she felt; what this would do to her. She glared back, nodding sharply at him, he'd manipulated her, and she'd walked straight into it. But it didn't matter now; this was the only way she would get her life back, even a half life as it was.

"Take me home."

He grinned. "Next month can't come soon enough." Rolling from the bed he pulled his jeans on swiftly, his t-shirt was over his head before she'd even managed to extract herself from the sheets. She dressed quickly; fully aware of his eyes searing every inch of her into his memory. He took her hand and it took more effort than she thought not to flinch away, but she managed it, letting him lead her to the front door of the house. She wasn't looking forward to the days long journey back to New York. Sylar stepped up behind her and swept her up into his arms, with only a mild cry of surprise. "I have a faster method of transport now." He told her smugly. The air flew past and Claire realised with mild surprise that that they were running, moving inhumanly fast, something she'd only seen once before... somewhere a small girl with cropped blonde hair and an impish face was lying with her skull missing and her brain exposed.

The dark night concealed them when he dropped her on the front steps of the Petrelli mansion. He lowered her gently and kissed her thoroughly, his hands cupping her face. Sylar's eyes bore into hers, reminding her that it was only his mercy that kept her free; that she had made a promise. She nodded, a blast of air swept her hair into her face and she blinked, when she opened her eyes he was gone. It took her a few minutes to compose herself, before she was willing to ring the doorbell.

It was Nathan that pulled open the door, Nathan who's arms went around her whether she was ready for human contact or not. The moment he swung her into the house she knew she was safe, for now. Her Faustian deal was made, but at least she had something; she wouldn't have to look over her shoulder, always wondering when Sylar would come for her, never have to worry that he would kill her family. She found herself smiling, who knew, perhaps she'd get lucky and someone would do him in, before she ever had to honour their agreement in full. Then again... she mused as Angela took hold of her tightly, perhaps when the time came, she'd be ready to feel something again.


	7. 7: Drabbles

Hard Bargain:_ Drabbles_

Summary: Sexual Content  
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, I just like to pretend

He always appeared in her room without fail, no matter where her room happened to be, once a month, oddly enough whenever it was most convenient; or on a day when she'd felt her loss of senses particularly keenly. It disturbed her to know that although he wouldn't come for her, he would still watch her.

That had never been more apparent than when she was attacked on campus a few months ago now, some drunk that had shown up for the football game and hadn't left. He'd dragged her behind one of those large industrial garbage bins and tried to divest her of her pants. The drunk had been so intent on her that he hadn't seen Sylar standing in front of him, his brows knit together, his eyes blazing.

The drunk's neck was snapped cleanly within moments, and Sylar had stalked forwards, hastily helping to rearrange her clothes; that done he bent his head kissed her lightly on the cheek and vanished with a blast of disturbed air. She'd wondered if he'd stay, given as he'd saved her, he'd already had his conjugal visit this month, but he didn't push, didn't even ask. He was just protecting his investment.

---*---

Her family knew from the moment she'd reappeared telling them that he'd released her, that of course something wasn't right. But they didn't push, no one pushed her anymore, she was the poor sweet, innocent little girl that Sylar had abused, kidnapped and done unspeakable things to. But they'd investigated, her father most of all of course, and Sylar popped up on their radar from time to time, letting them know that he was still alive.

"How can that not worry you?" Nathan had snapped at her finally one day when her dad had finished his report on Sylar's latest activity to the room at large.

Claire looked up from her coffee and realised every face was on her, all wearing that same frustrated and worried expression. "I'm just not." She took another sip of coffee, ignoring the way Nathan stalked back and forwards across the kitchen. "He's not going to take me again; you're just going to have to take my word on that." That got their attention it was the most she'd ever said about the '_incident'_ as they called it.

"Did you make a deal with him Claire?" her father's tone rang with incredulity as he stood from his position to glare soundly at her.

"Yes." Claire replied she cast a half look around and then returned to her coffee and the newspaper.

They didn't know what to say, silence rung throughout the room. "What kind of deal Claire?" Angela prodded; no one else seemed to have the nerve to dare.

Claire looked up and met her grandmother's eyes, trying to ignore the mixture of emotions she saw there. "One that got me out of there; and took you all off his hit list."

"Sylar made a deal with you that handed you back and stopped him from killing us?" Nathan's words dripped sarcasm and she couldn't look him quite in the eye to dissuade it.

"Why would Sylar make a deal like that Claire?" Peter had been quiet, he always was when Sylar's name cropped up; he'd taken her kidnapping worse than the rest, blamed himself for not being able to stop Sylar.

"I guess there was something he wanted more." Claire replied finally and set her face into a hard line in an attempt to close off further questions.

Her father opened his mouth to speak and she raised a finger to stop him, which surprisingly worked. "Look, I've said all I'm going to say on this, I don't like talking about it, believe it or not I'm just trying to put what happened behind me and live my life. He's not coming after us, any of us. Just accept that."

"Not whilst he's still breathing." Noah Bennett had always been a formidable man, his very stature said I can handle myself, but his eyes today, Claire had to turn away from them, his eyes said that he was capable of monstrous things.

"If you provoke him, and force him to kill you our deal will be broken." Claire replied with a hint of steel creeping into her voice, as she stood, facing all 6ft5" of her father. "You do that and he'll take me, and he'll hurt me... I'll never have a life again." Her father looked like she'd slapped him, which considering the height difference was unlikely, but still it seemed to have had the desired effect.

"Claire..." her father tried hopelessly, but his heart wasn't in it, he seemed completely at a loss as to what to do, there was no outlet for his rage.

"Just don't go looking for him dad. If he happens to come across you and he happens to get a bullet in the brain... no one will cry over that. Who knows maybe someone will do it for us, he's not exactly low profile. But just stay out of his way; I won't go back there, not for you, not for anyone." She told him pointedly and he flinched, stung by the venom in her voice, the horror she knew her eyes still reflected whenever she accidentally remembered.

She'd swept from the room, not daring to look back, not daring to see their reactions; they'd listen, because just like her they didn't really have a whole lot of choice in the matter. Even her father's rage and hatred would take a back seat if he thought that going after Sylar would genuinely be handing her back over to him. She sighed, entering her bedroom, it was a different one to where they'd had their first encounter, Angela had moved all her things and she never went into that other room.

Tonight was _their_ night, she wondered absently if he would show, if he'd heard the row downstairs and would think to spare her tonight. She tried not to dwell on it as she left the house, ignoring the way Peter watched her, his eyes heavy; it was a Saturday, she had the whole day to herself; until tonight at least, she wasn't going to waste it just because her family couldn't let what had happened to her go. Shopping was normally soothing, but as she browsed the clothes, and skimmed the handbags she considered the fact that her heart wasn't really in it; so she'd gone to Central Park, it was one of the things she liked most about living in New York. That at any corner, anywhere she went, you could always find something to do, something for any mood.

Claire was so distracted with the view that she never saw him, but when his hands slipped around her waist and his lips pressed against her hair she didn't jump. Once a month she was his, today was his day, he'd only ever come for her at night, only ever demanded her body not her company. But not today, she had known that it would happen, neither of them had expressly said a night only, it had only been a matter of time before he sought her out earlier.

"Claire." He breathed in the scent of shampoo that lingered in her hair and she suppressed a shiver as his hand slid up her back. He turned her in his arms and captured her lips... it was like a light switch, one moment she was half dead, coasting through life, the next she was electrified, every touch, every smell heightened to almost unbearable proportions. The feel of his lips over hers sent tingling sensations shooting through her, his hand on her back raised goosebumps.

It sickened her that the only time she ever felt truly alive was in his arms; was at his touch. But every time he came to her, every time he let his stolen power wash over her, it got easier, there would come a time when she would look forward to it... she knew that, hated herself and him for it, but she wouldn't let herself be fooled into fanciful thinking. His hand slid into hers and he pulled gently, it should have seemed surreal to her, walking through Central Park, hand in hand with Sylar, somehow it didn't.

He'd taken her to a restaurant in Little Italy, and pressed her into telling him about college, though she was certain he knew every facet of her life, she obliged. After all it was infinitely better than listening to him talk about his life... who he'd killed, how many of the people she'd known had suffered so that he could take what they had. He'd asked her about her family, shifting his chair around to her side of the table so that he could slip an arm around her, their legs touching. It seemed like he always had to be touching her, she wondered how he managed to restrain himself when he watched her. She spoke to him honestly, after all, she had no secrets from him, in a way it was a relief, he didn't judge her, didn't press her for more detail, just let her unload.

"Tell me where you want to go." He pulled her closer, his fingers brushing the skin on the back of her neck, his thumb stroking the length of her collarbone exposed as it was in her strappy top. "Anywhere Claire; anywhere in the world." His eyes were on her face, watching her with such intensity that she shifted uncomfortable beneath it, but nowhere sprang to mind, it wasn't a question you got asked often. "I'll pick this time then." He told her quietly, bending to pick her up, sliding into her arms as if she weighed nothing. Air rushed past them, and she closed her eyes, burying her head against his chest, motion sickness was a very real possibility when he travelled like this.

When he stopped the first thing she noticed was the heat, he released her legs and they swung down, the ground gave and shifted beneath her, she stared at it as sand covered her suddenly inappropriate heeled sandals. Taking a breath she took in the smell of the ocean, before casting her gaze out over the crystal clear blue sea.

"Where are we?" she ventured.

"Nowhere; not really." He replied staring out at the view. Claire turned and realised that the island wasn't what she'd been expecting, it was practically all beach, a few trees barely a mile across; a speck of land in the middle of an ocean. He held his hand out to her, waiting expectantly; she placed her much smaller one inside and let him tug her towards the shore line.

That day glistening from the warm water, lying beneath Sylar, his shirt between her and the sand, she wasn't sure she could call it rape, for the first time she'd grasped him pulling his dick to her entrance. All the times he'd been with her since they'd struck their deal, she'd responded, because that was the deal. If he'd kissed her she'd let him, she opened her mouth to him, touched her tongue to his, she hadn't squirmed beneath his touch, hadn't cried when he slid into her, had moved her hips to his, because that was what she'd promised him...willing. It had been rape, she was forced whether it was physically apparent or not.

But not today, he rolled them, until she was on top, the sun beat down on her back gloriously and she slid over him, guided by his hands at her hips.

"I love you." he told her calmly, his breath hitching as she moved over him, his one hand sliding between them to take a breast firmly.

"I know." She bit down on her lip as his hand on her nipple teased her, shooting sensations straight down to her stomach. They came together; his trembling hands had taken her face and pulled her flat against him, kissing her soundly. His arms enveloped her and she was happy to simply lie there, and feel.

---*---

It wasn't always like that day on the beach, that had been one shining moment between them; most times a month seemed to have been too long for him and he'd slam into her without preparation, his desperation fuelling him, sometimes he'd forget to turn off his ability when he did that, and she'd cry with the agony of it. Sometimes a month would have been too long for her to go without feeling something, someone and she'd want him to make her hurt, want him to make her feel everything. But whatever happened, however they were, he always told her he loved her and she would always acknowledge that; it hurt her to admit it, had even sickened her at one time, but she was certain he was sincere. He'd let her go, it had cost him to do it, and he'd done it for her. Sylar lived only for himself, he cared for nothing and no one, except her... it was just something she was going to have to learn to live with.

---*---

Claire watched from a distance the small gathering of people, all in black. She should have been there with them, should have been able to say goodbye in the same way, but she'd have to wait. Her face hadn't changed, hadn't aged a day in 52 years, she couldn't risk people recognising her. As they filtered out of the graveyard she approached slowly, a funeral wasn't something unfamiliar to her; she'd been to dozens, but this one was significant. Crouching down she gazed at the headstone, and back at the casket that was waiting patiently to be filled in. Running her fingers along the smooth stone she took a moment to cry as she traced the letters of his name...Peter.

He'd had a good life, a long life, he'd got married, had children, grandchildren; but towards the end she'd felt the power of his gaze still upon her. He was the only one she suspected knew or thought he knew what her deal had been; the cancer had tried to eat him alive and he'd stubbornly refused to let it win. Even at his worst moments, when the pain had been agonising, and his wrinkled face had scrunched up, the strength in his hand as it gripped hers failing, he'd refused to go. He'd hung in there, fighting for 8 years; he'd given her 8 more years of freedom, and for that and every other thing he'd done for her she loved him dearly; right to the end, he'd been her hero.

He was the last, they were gone now, her mother, her father, Nathan, Angela was long dead, even Lyle had succumbed to time, and human frailty. It was painful to watch, to live through, to see their faces as they moved on and she couldn't, unchanged and untouched through the years. Only Peter had kept any resentment buried, if he'd ever felt any. Her heart ached as she threw the rose she'd brought for him onto the casket and pressed a kiss to his headstone, she'd had a long time to prepare for this moment.

Claire pulled her black coat around her firmly to keep out the chill of the still morning air, she glanced down at her finger, blood dripped from the small cut the thorn on the stem had made, and the sting remained. Wordlessly she held her hand out behind her; long cool fingers slid into it and grasped her firmly.

"Thank you." she told him quietly and he squeezed her hand lightly in response, she didn't need to explain to him. She never did, and never would. Didn't need to tell him that she appreciated the time he'd given her, the life he'd let her lead; the family he had let live. His arms slid around her waist and he rested his head against hers, sighing contently.

"I love you Claire."

"I know." She replied as was their way. Maybe one day she'd say something else. Maybe one day she'd feel something else. After all, any man that could still love you after 52 years, could still touch you and send every nerve in your body into overload and draw goosebumps along flawless skin; couldn't be all bad.

---_fin---_


End file.
